


Body Count

by leftfoottrapped (miikkaa_xx)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Gangbang, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miikkaa_xx/pseuds/leftfoottrapped
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Tao's birthday, Kris requests the rest of the band to screw the lights out of him. (PWP!fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Count

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yamtempura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamtempura/gifts).



> a Christmas fic for my one and only [Jenn](http://zitaoyursocute.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  **warnings:** language, explicit sex, includes: gangbang/orgy of all of EXO M (heavy emphasis on Tao/Kris and Xiumin/Luhan), face-fucking, double penetration, breathplay, spit-roasting, and slight dom/sub dynamics; unbeta'd - feel free to point out any mistakes in prose and/or characterisation.

-

In hindsight, Zitao should’ve seen this coming. The first birthday he celebrated with Yifan, Yifan had bought him dinner, walked along the river while chatting pleasantly, and then screwed Zitao into a wall until he was crying. The second birthday, Zitao had offhandedly mentioned earlier that he would also celebrate with Joonmyeon-hyung before heading out on his date with Yifan. That night, Yifan had opened the door to Zitao’s bedroom with a smile, Joonmyeon peeking out from behind him with a bow on his neck and waving, ‘do you mind if I join you two tonight for your birthday, Tao?’ Zitao had been in a daze for an entire week afterwards. So, of course, the third birthday was going to have to blow last year out of the water, except Zitao didn’t exactly know _how_.

He wakes up as usual, when Yifan rouses him up with a smile and soft kisses, nudging him to the kitchen table where Yixing has laid out breakfast. Zitao makes a soft noise at the plate of cha siu bao laid out on the table, next to a plateful of various types of jiaozi beside a pile of coeng fan, a bowl of congee, steamed spare ribs, and spiced noodles piled in the middle. Out of the corner of his eye, Zitao sees Jongdae and Minseok valiantly shoving take-out boxes in the garbage.

‘Sit down and eat, it’s your birthday,’ murmurs Yifan in his ear, and Zitao settles. Eventually, Luhan wanders into the kitchen, scowling, but it quickly changes when he takes in the meal.

‘Did you _make_ this?’ he asks, impressed.

Yixing levels him with a look and lies through his teeth. ‘Yes.’

Jongdae is already beckoning for Zitao’s attention, using his chopsticks to dip the jiaozi into the chili sauce before holding it in front of Zitao’s mouth. Just when Zitao opens up, Jongdae’s wrist twists and gets the sauce at the corner of his lips. Greedy, Zitao swallows the jiaozi anyway.

Beside Zitao, Minseok tuts, ‘messy,’ and wipes the sauce off slowly with his thumb, gaze intent on Zitao’s mouth. Zitao’s belly curls at the attention, watching as Minseok smiles at him, the pink flicker of his tongue as he licks the sauce off his finger. ‘Is it good, Tao?’

‘Very good,’ replies Jongdae for him, a curve to his mouth that has Zitao feeling just a little off-kilter.

-

The feeling dissipates during the radio show pre-recording in the morning. Everyone follows script and no one makes any inappropriate adlibs or quips. Breakfast was just an anomaly, and Zitao is relaxing back into usual early morning sleepiness.

For lunch, Yixing skips out with Yifan and returns with take-out boxes full of yángròuchuàn and zhuròuchuàn, and Zitao feels a harsh bout of homesickness hit his stomach. Beside him, Minseok curls an arm around his waist as they sit around a table in one of the empty radio conference rooms waiting for their manager to pick them up in an hour.

‘It probably doesn’t taste the same as the ones from home,’ says Yixing softly in apology, but Zitao gives him a bright smile anyway.

‘Thank you,’ and he stands up to hug him, tucking his face in the crook of Yixing’s neck because his eyes might be burning and there may be a lump in his throat. He’ll never admit it – but he has a suspicion they all know anyway.

Yifan laughs and feeds him a piece of meat off the kebab across the table, while Luhan goes out to find water because _what the hell Tao, why do you like spicy things so much_. Minseok stops after three, but Jongdae makes up for him with two extra over their calorie intake. Yixing hums next to Zitao, grinning when Zitao shoots him thankful looks.

He doesn’t expect for Yixing to pay him back for it during dance practice, pressing his body right against Zitao’s spine as he murmurs soft instructions. ‘You should flick your wrist here and then move backwards,’ says Yixing, sliding his hand all along the bare skin of Zitao’s arm and curling around his palm. ‘Are you listening?’

‘Yes,’ says Zitao slowly, his entire body hyperaware of how Yixing is liquid grace behind him, grinding upwards in a slow, steady motion, asking Zitao to follow along.

‘Good,’ praises Yixing in his ear afterwards, breath hot against Zitao’s cartilage, and Zitao searches Yixing’s face for – for _anything_ , but Yixing gives nothing away.

-

They get home at ten, which is early by so many standards that Zitao flounders in the living room for a minute before following Yixing’s ‘taking a nap’ example and collapsing face first on the couch, makeup be damned. The manager promised to keep Zitao’s public birthday celebrations to Saturday evening for optimum drinking and partying purposes, and shoves them back in their dorms on the Thursday to leave them alone. ‘Don’t get too rowdy,’ he tells Yifan before grinning and waving goodbye.

Already half-asleep, Zitao can hear Jongdae wander into Yixing’s room, presumably to sleep next to him for a little while. Luhan and Minseok are tinkering around in the kitchen, and Yifan’s footsteps are shuffling closer to him.

Zitao cracks open an eye and sees Yifan bent over him, a blanket in his arms. His voice is fond when he asks, ‘want to share, birthday boy?’

‘Okay,’ hums Zitao, pleased when he gets manhandled onto his side and draped with said blanket. Yifan’s long limbs tangle between his when he spoons behind him, a soft kiss pressed to the nape of Zitao’s neck.

It’s not really a nap – hovering between the space of sleep and awake, slipping out between half-imagined dreams, the comforting weight of Yifan’s arm around Zitao’s waist, the line of his leg pressed all along the back of Zitao’s thigh. Everything is a little hazy and warm for a few minutes, or maybe an hour.

Eventually, they wake to the rush of water as Minseok takes his nightly shower. Yifan grumbles, clutching tighter around Zitao, his hips pushing upwards so that Zitao can feel the half-hardness of his cock. ‘Don’t move.’

Immediately, Zitao stills, mouth dry. Yifan is fully awake now and his cock is an insistent press against the other’s ass. The water cuts off and Minseok is probably dressing himself in his shirt and shorts for bed now. A minute passes, where Zitao focuses on the way Yifan’s breath hitches every time he accidentally grinds into Zitao as he tries to untangle their limbs.

‘Do you – ’ murmurs Zitao, so low that he’s surprised Yifan hears him.

‘No, take a shower first,’ says Yifan in that voice – all stern duizhang wrapped up in his low baritone. ‘Later.’

The promise has Zitao whining somewhere deep within his throat. He feels Yifan eventually retract his body entirely and pull away from under the blanket. The loss of warmth means nothing when Zitao can feel the lust burn in his belly. He waits until he hears Yifan disappear in his room, shutting the door behind him, before getting up, blanket bunched in his fists.

Minseok exits the washroom and heads to his and Tao’s shared room. From Yixing and Luhan’s room, Luhan comes out toting a bag of his toiletries and throwing Zitao an expectant look. ‘Well? Want to shower?’

-

The shower isn’t small, but Tao is tall and sometimes feels a little ungainly in his limbs when Luhan drips confidence around him. Not usually of course – Luhan is as insecure as the rest of them, and Minseok is an irreplaceable comfort, just as Zitao often seeks out Yifan.

Right now, though. Right now, Zitao feels way more unsteady on his feet than he should be, especially when Luhan is skipping soapy fingers down Zitao’s torso and curving over his hips, a smile on his mouth and glint in his eye. ‘Who got you hard before you came in, hm?’

Zitao’s mouth is dry as the desert despite the spray of water all around them. He can feel the burning press of Luhan’s fingertips against his skin, the way his own hands scrabble for purchase against the tile when Luhan jerks his cock. Just once. ‘Luhan – what – ’

As maknae and also shower buddy, Zitao should be used to members teasing him. He’s showered with four of the others, as Yifan expressly won’t let Jongdae touch Zitao. Jongdae showers too early in the morning for Zitao anyway, so he doesn’t mind. Minseok and Yixing are about kisses – soft, fleeting ones pressed along Zitao’s collarbone and shoulder blades. Yifan is ruthless when he jerks Zitao into a moaning mess in the evenings under the hot spray. Luhan is a merciless tease. Likes kisses and nips and fingers questing over the long expanse of Zitao’s skin if he feels especially ruthless.

But Luhan never lets Zitao come, because Luhan belongs to Minseok first and foremost. And Zitao struggles to think as Luhan jerks his cock off; his thumb pressing against Zitao’s leaking cockhead.

‘Min-ge,’ moans Zitao, ‘stop – please – Min-ge will be upset.’

Luhan doesn’t seem to hear him over the spray of the shower, dipping his other hand to play with the heavy sack. Zitao slams his shoulder against the tiles, jerking his hips, and tries to move away. ‘Lu _han_.’

Luhan’s hands beat a fast retreat. He’s smiling at him, hair plastered wetly to his face, looking too young and too mischievous for anything good. ‘Calm down, Taozi,’ he drawls.

ZItao knocks his head back against the tile and tries to remember how to breathe as Luhan rinses off. Eventually, his hard-on wilts through sheer focus after turning off the shower and drying himself.

-

Jongdae is in a too-big shirt and pajama pants in the hallway when he sees Zitao toweling his hair after exiting the bathroom. ‘Duizhang wants you to sit in your room and wait.’ He pauses, then grins a sharp-toothed smile. ‘Naked, please.’

Zitao’s cock jumps and he nods, once.

Minseok isn’t inside when Zitao enters their bedroom. His bed is made neatly, but it’s been pushed up against Zitao’s bed in the middle of the room. The two twin mattresses now make a double, even if it’s a poor man’s version of a bigger bed.

Gingerly, Zitao strips off his shirt and undershorts, leaving them in a pile in his closet along with the damp towel. He’d take care of it after duizhang was done taking care of him.

So Zitao kneels, watching the half-open door of his bedroom from his spot on the sheets, and waits.

-

There are footsteps, muffled whispers, voices rising and falling before being abruptly silenced. Zitao only has to wait for a few minutes before Yifan appears at his doorway, leaning against the wall with a soft smile, his gaze asking permission.

Zitao watches him with wide eyes before he makes a soft noise. ‘Duizhang.’

‘Tao,’ he replies, but doesn’t come in. ‘Do you remember when I invited Joonmyeon last year?’

The other swallows, anticipating ratcheting up his spine. ‘Yes.’

‘And you liked it.’

Another muffled noise in the back of his throat when he speaks, ‘so – so fucking much.’

‘I wanted to invite someone else this time,’ says Yifan mildly. ‘Well. A lot of others.’

‘Oh.’ Zitao exhales and thinks of his day – sandwiched between instances of sweetness and something that made his stomach twist. Of Jongdae’s playfulness, of Minseok’s heavy gaze on his mouth, of Yixing’s body lined up against his, of Luhan’s hands on his cock. ‘You mean – all of them.’

‘Yes.’ Yifan is still asking, still waiting. Zitao’s heart blooms for him and he has his answer.

‘Please,’ he pleads, just once. ‘I want it.’

‘Happy birthday, Zitao,’ says Yifan as he steps inside. Zitao reaches out for him, tangles his fingers into the nightshirt so he can make Yifan lean over and kiss him. It’s soft and reassuring, and Zitao trusts him oh so absolutely.

When Yifan pulls away, Zitao looks at the doorway to see the other members file inside, only in their undershorts, eyes sliding over Zitao’s naked form kneeling on the bed. Zitao preens under the attention, stretching his arms above his head so his chest is pushed out and his stomach goes concave with feline grace.

‘Who’s first?’ asks Jongdae, hand on his hip and gaze piercing. Zitao can imagine what sex might be like with Minseok or Yixing – softness and gentility. He can imagine that Luhan can tease but also fuck. He _knows_ how Yifan can make him fall apart at the seams, but Jongdae is something new and unknown. It makes Zitao _want_.

‘Not you,’ cuts in Yifan sternly. His hand is on Zitao’s neck, rubbing the arch of his spine with his fingers. ‘Safeword, Zitao?’

‘Mooncake,’ he says, and hears Minseok coo over it. When he looks over, he already sees Luhan’s chin settled over Minseok’s shoulder as he hugs the other from behind. Yixing has an arm curled around Jongdae’s waist, their torsos lined up side by side. In front of him, Yifan presses a line of kisses over his jaw and pushes Zitao over until he’s on his back. Zitao tugs at the shirt on Yifan, and Yifan laughs against his neck before stripping off all his clothes, a long line of nakedness, all for Zitao’s taking.

‘I’m going to back off,’ says Yifan as he strokes Zitao’s sides, watching Zitao arch from the ticklish touch, ‘I’m going to let Yixing and Minseok take care of you. But if you need me, just call.’

Zitao hums, smiling up at him, watching Yifan push himself off the bed entirely. Before Zitao can truly register the loss of Yifan’s body heat, Yixing is kneeling between Zitao’s legs, sliding his hands up Zitao’s thighs. ‘You look very cute, Taozi,’ says Yixing pleasantly, cupping Zitao’s half-hard cock. ‘Don’t you think, Min-ge?’

Minseok is kneeling beside Zitao’s torso, his hand carding through Zitao’s soft hair. ‘So cute, I just want to kiss him.’

 _Oh_. Zitao keens from his throat, arching for it, and Minseok laughs a little to himself before leaning down and meeting his mouth. Minseok’s kisses are so warm and good, with flickering touches of tongue and moving lips. They toe the line between chaste and hungry, and Zitao arches and aches for more.

The kiss breaks at the first touch of Yixing’s tongue to Zitao’s cock, engulfing the head and sucking gently. Zitao cries out in surprise, eyes flicking down to Yixing’s hand cradling the base while his mouth works over Zitao’s cockhead.

‘Yixing, we missed the foreplay,’ scolds Minseok, and Yixing pops off, his mouth red and wet.

‘Okay, you suck; I’ll take care of the rest.’

Zitao feels like he should be doing something – _anything_ – but he can only watch as Minseok and Yixing trade places. Minseok’s mouth on his cock is _very_ different from Yixing. He sucks hard on Zitao’s dick, the pace suddenly fast as he gets it all wet and sloppy. His spit is slinking down Zitao’s cock and around his balls, and he only arches as the sensations meld together – the coolness of the air against the spit and the heat of Minseok’s mouth working him over.

Beside him, Yixing’s hands are flicking his nipples, kissing them fleetingly before his tongue is tracing long lines over Zitao’s chest. It’s like he’s practicing his brushwork, except with his mouth and tongue and all the characters on Zitao’s skin is making him harder and harder. He keens helplessly against the pleasure; his hands around Yixing’s shoulders, wanting to reciprocate except no one will let him.

Zitao takes it then – takes the pleasure, lets it swamp over his nerve-endings. Minseok’s mouth is on his balls, sucking one and letting his fingers play with the other, while Yixing is sucking at Zitao’s collarbone.

‘Let me,’ he begs, ‘Xing-ge, I wanna – please,’ but Yixing seems intent on ignoring him. Instead, Zitao flops back against the bed as Yixing laves his tongue around his nipple, flicking the other with his fingers. It’s so different from Yifan – who knows everything about Zitao’s body, how each press gets him closer and closer – and here are both his geges trying to learn those same spots, untangle his arousal from their own.

With a twist of his shoulders, Zitao finally dislodges Yixing’s mouth from his chest, but gets his cock deeper in Minseok’s mouth and almost comes right there if it wasn’t for Minseok’s fingers tight around the base. Yixing is kneeling, his own cock hard and pearling precome, so Zitao reaches out for it, tugging at it, feeling the heft and weight of it – so different from Yifan.

‘Ah – I’ll finish too early, Taozi,’ exhales Yixing, his hips moving along smoothly to Zitao’s strokes, setting a rhythm on his own for Zitao to follow. Zitao can’t speak because Minseok is deepthroating him now, his eyes closed and lashes fanning over his pretty cheeks as he lets Zitao’s cock fuck his mouth.

Zitao can feel himself get closer and closer to orgasm, and he wants to so bad, but neither Yixing nor Minseok have come. With a frown, Zitao grips Yixing tighter and Yixing exhales noisily, eyes fluttering closed as he fucks into Zitao’s grip faster.

Minseok is sloppily sucking Zitao’s cock, everything too wet and warm for Zitao to think properly. There’s a tongue flicking at his cockhead, playing with the leaking crown, and Zitao makes loud noises as Minseok sucks him. The friction is getting too much, too much –

Groaning, Zitao shuts his eyes with a frantic noise as MInseok accidentally lets his teeth skim across Zitao’s cock but it’s enough to send him right till the edge. Minseok can feel how Zitao’s balls draw up close to his body and Zitao is suddenly hyperaware of everything around him – the sloppy sucking of Minseok’s mouth, Yixing panting beside him, the way every nerve in his body is tingling to come –

With a loud moan, Zitao loses it. Minseok drinks down the ropes of come from his twitching cock as Yixing pulls his cock away from Zitao’s grip and jerks himself off. Half a dozen strokes later, Yixing is leaving stripes over Zitao’s chest, making Zitao twitch at the sudden warmth. Zitao’s hips are writhing to get away from Minseok who is still licking around his softening dick before he hears Yifan’s voice –

‘Minseok, stop.’ Zitao moans and blearily opens his eyes as Minseok pulls away. On the other side of the room, Yifan is leaning against the dresser, his cock hard and gaze piercing, obviously restraining himself. Beside him is Jongdae, sitting on the dresser, elbows on his knees as he watches with a half-smile, as if studying Zitao and finding him particularly amusing. Luhan isn’t in sight, but that’s because he’s now in between Zitao’s legs, nudging Minseok out of the way.

‘Luhan has a present for you,’ says Yifan, his voice a rough growl from arousal. ‘Will you accept it?’

‘Please,’ moans Zitao helplessly. His nails twist in the bedsheets, watching Yifan, waiting for his instruction.

‘I’m going to let Luhan play with you first,’ he replies, sensing Zitao’s want. ‘And Minseok and Yixing too. You’re going to service them, get them off, and if you’re good enough, I’ll come and I’ll fuck you.’

‘Yes,’ says Zitao breathlessly.

Jongdae blinks and looks up at Yifan. ‘And me?’

Yifan meets the gaze, his shoulders tensing with something that Zitao hasn’t seen before. ‘You’ll get your turn.’

‘Thank you, duizhang,’ but the tone is mocking. Zitao doesn’t think any more of it when Luhan is nipping at the skin on the inside of his thigh, Minseok’s soft mouth against the inside of the other. Zitao whimpers but it’s drowned out when Yixing kisses his mouth, sliding his tongue to trace along the ridges of Zitao’s teeth to taste him.

Eventually Yixing pulls away and Luhan tugs at Zitao’s cock for his attention. ‘Watch me, Taozi,’ he says with a slow smile when he raises his hand. He’s holding a small ring that unhooks open and slides around the base of Zitao’s still soft cock. ‘It’s my present for you.’

The cockring closes with a click, no pressure around the dick yet, but Minseok intends to change that when he crawls up Zitao’s torso and kisses him deep and wet. Zitao meets him with enthusiasm, dragging his hands down the smooth length of Minseok’s back and holding his hips before skittering his fingers closer and closer to Minseok’s hard cock.

Zitao jerks him off with unprecedented speed and deftness, having had practice with Yifan dozens of times, but it’s no less amazing seeing Minseok pull away, his eyes fluttered closed and mouth dropped open in a soft exhale as he bucks into the grip, smearing precome all over Zitao’s fingers.

Meanwhile, Luhan is doing something that Zitao can’t see nor feel. He gets the faintest idea when Minseok whimpers from the back of his throat a beat later, stilling his hips. Zitao wants so fucking badly to look around and _see_ if it is Luhan prepping Minseok, and how he does it, how he compares with Yifan, but Luhan belongs to Minseok. Always.

Instead, he has fingers cool and slick with lube pushing at his perineum and Zitao gasps at the sensation. His legs are spread as far possible to accommodate both Luhan and Yixing kneeling on the bedspread as Minseok hovers over Zitao’s torso, his mouth dipping down for an occasional kiss as he pants from the fingers up his ass.

‘Xing-ge,’ begs Zitao, unabashed, and he feels Yixing’s plush mouth drop a kiss to Zitao’s twitching cock as he ingratiates one finger inside of him.

‘Going to make this good for you, Taozi,’ says Yixing in that lovely, sweet voice. Zitao feels his eyes burn at the attention and affection as he is stretched with the utmost slowness and care. In return, both his hands decide to work over Minseok’s cock, jerking at the tip and playing with his balls.

Minseok has given up on kissing as the sensations below the waist meld inside of his body. His lips are red and a blush paints itself over his cheeks as his cock bucks and jumps between Zitao’s fingers. It’s a thick piece, not too long, but the girth has Zitao groaning and wondering what it’d be like to feel fucking stretched with it, his hole red and smoothed out.

As he jerks off Minseok, Yixing is busy finger-fucking him open with two fingers and licking at his balls, curling his tongue and flicking at the sensitive skin. Already, Zitao feels his cock twitch and begin to rise again in interest. He’s trying so hard not to move, to keep himself still, but Yixing’s fingers are so fucking deep inside of him. ‘More,’ pants Zitao finally, tired of this pace. ‘I need more, gege, please.’

Yixing doesn’t reply but he drags his fingertips achingly slow over Zitao’s prostate. Suddenly, Zitao’s cock is hard, the cockring a pressure against the base, as he bucks his hips for more. All he earns is a hand pinning his hips down and a breathless laugh.

‘ _Yixing_ ,’ says Zitao, desperate.

‘Not yet,’ replies Yixing easily, over the slick sounds of fucking Zitao’s ass and how Zitao’s fingers slip over Minseok’s thick cock in a wet slide to get him off. Vaguely, Zitao wonders if Minseok’s broken voice and hitches of breath are from a finger-fucking or if Luhan is sliding his mouth along the rim. How delicious it feels when there’s a warm tongue to flick inside and loosen the hole up.

‘You’re ready, Minseokie,’ says Luhan breathlessly. Minseok shudders violently and jerks up hard into Zitao’s grip once, twice, but restrains himself from coming. ‘Tao,’ he whispers, and Zitao looks up at him, mesmerized at the sheen of sweat and how it glitters over his pale skin.

‘Min-ge,’ replies Zitao, and doesn’t stop trying to jerk off the other, wanting to make him come, wanting to _please_ him as Yifan ordered him to.

‘Stop – ah, stop, Tao,’ repeats Minseok. Yixing takes this moment to shove in three fingers inside of Zitao’s loosened hole and Zitao arches his back, wailing out breathlessly from the stretch. Still, Yixing keeps it all so achingly slow, a torturous pace that does nothing for Zitao except make his dick twitch and strain at the cockring.

There’s a shuffle and movement, a rearranging of limbs that has Zitao’s mind awhirl when he feels hands on his biceps and a pull on his ankles. The three of them manhandle his long limbs so that Zitao’s ass is at the edge of the mattress now, Minseok and Luhan standing between his thighs. His legs are still spread; cock flushed purple and leaking, arcing towards his navel, but it’s hidden from sight when Minseok gets back on the bed and straddles Zitao’s stomach, Luhan remaining between Zitao’s legs. Yixing has found a comfortable spot behind Zitao’s head and is cradling Zitao’s wrists between his hands, restraining him with an unexpected gentility that makes Zitao keen.

Above him, Minseok skips his fingers over Zitao’s chest with a soft smile. ‘Gege also has a present for you,’ he says, and Zitao doesn’t expect for him to lower his ass down and envelop Zitao’s cock in a tight, pressing heat. Immediately, Zitao jerks, breath knocked out of him as Minseok settles over his abdomen, adjusting to the dick inside of him.

‘Lu – Luhan,’ says Zitao, a barely-coherent protest, because Minseok is Luhan’s and Luhan is Minseok’s and they would never – they tease but they don’t – they –

‘Happy birthday,’ says Luhan from between his legs and sinks his cock right inside Zitao’s prepped hole, the stretch easy and adjustable as Luhan groans. There are too many sensations, too many conflicts and separations as he watches Minseok throw his head back, leaning against Luhan’s shoulder as he is moving steadily behind him.

Zitao involuntarily bucks upwards into Minseok, making his ass tilt and slide Luhan’s cock deeper inside of him. It has him _lose his mind_ with sheer delirious pleasure at being ridden and taken at the same time. Yixing holds him back from grabbing onto Minseok’s hips and rutting thoughtlessly inside of him, which might be the point, as the cockring is now adding a painful edge to his arousal.

Except the combination of pain and pleasure makes Zitao’s cock leak even _more_ – he is helpless to the varying feelings coursing through his body. Luhan’s dick is stretching him so good, fucking him steadily with a pace that feels miles faster than the torture of Yixing’s fingers. And Minseok’s ass – it’s tight and hot, like a glove that curves and presses around Zitao’s cock and now he knows, oh god he fucking _knows_ why Yifan loves fucking his ass so much now –

‘Yes, yes, oh fuck – ’ he wails, and Yixing smiles down at him, which only makes Zitao writhe under the attention, the fucking _affection_ dripping onto his skin like a physical caress from all of them. His cock is being squeezed and stroked in the best way and his hole being stretched and ruined at the same time – each thrust and stroke perfectly timed, perfectly in synch, because it’s Minseok and Luhan who are doing this to him.

In front of him, Minseok is reclining against Luhan’s chest as he rides Zitao’s cock with surprising smoothness, and Zitao watches as Luhan kisses his neck, whispers things like, ‘look so good, Minseokie, so absolutely lovely’ because Luhan is helplessly, _hopelessly_ in love with Minseok and Zitao knows that ache in his chest, how he feels when he looks at Yifan across a room.

One of Luhan’s hands from Zitao’s hips retreat and tangle with Minseok’s fingers, holding tight and close as he fucks ruthlessly into Zitao’s body. Zitao can barely breathe – all he wants is to fucking _come_ from the doubling sensations – but Minseok’s cock is an angry, leaking red in front of him and Yixing is holding his damn hands above his head.

‘Wanna touch Minseok,’ he begs, ‘Xing – I wanna – ’

Yixing darts a look at Luhan and Luhan curves his mouth before fucking _harder_ into Zitao, erasing any other syllables from his throat and replacing them with loud, slutty moans. Zitao arches his back and tips his hips, hopes Minseok can feel all of him as he lets himself get fucked and filled up with cock.

But then: ‘Yixing – one hand,’ calls out Yifan, his voice a low, growling _wreck_ and that urges Zitao even further in his arousal, pushes him so fucking close to orgasm that the cockring starts to really _hurt_. Of course, the pain reroutes in his body and Zitao’s spitting more precome into Minseok’s ass because of it, his hole all sloppy and loose for Luhan to get right deep inside of him.

Yixing obeys, releasing Zitao’s wrist – his non-dominant hand of course. Zitao’s too thankful to be frustrated and reaches for Minseok’s cock, pressing his thumb against the weeping cockhead and feeling Minseok’s ass get hot and tight all around him.

‘Oh,’ he gasps out, and Minseok’s hips jerk for more friction on his cock, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Zitao strokes again and – fuck – loves how Minseok gets fluttery around him in return. He doesn’t stop, wants to please, and add Minseok’s come to the mess that Yixing left on his chest.

Luhan sees the sight and smiles at Zitao, ‘he likes it tight.’ Minseok whimpers and Zitao obeys and curls his fingers around Minseok’s cock till it’s edging on painful before using his mess of precome to stroke him steadily, paced with the rhythmic thrusts of Minseok on top of Zitao’s cock.

‘Please, Min-ge,’ says Zitao, ‘you can – please, you can – ’ and Minseok licks his lips before he’s fucking into Zitao’s fist and riding down on Zitao’s dick in smooth, dancer-like motions that risk putting Yixing to shame. Behind him, Luhan follows through and fucks hard into Zitao’s hole every time Minseok sinks down on him and the pleasure has him reeling.

It’s not enough to stop him from stroking Minseok off, from wanting to see how the other looks when he loses it, impaled on cock and surrounded by Luhan from behind. Minseok is evidently getting closer and closer as his rhythm falters and his ass is so fucking _tight_ around Zitao’s cock. Luhan leaves kisses over MInseok’s neck, tugs at the other’s ear with his teeth, his hips unvarying in their steady, hard pace where the curve of his cockhead presses just along the edges of Zitao’s prostate. But god – it’s enough; it’s so much more than enough.

Three strokes later, Minseok gives in and lets out a strangled moan – still stifled by the way he bites his bottom lip – before he’s coming in a mess. Zitao eagerly strokes him through it, his eyes on the way Minseok’s brows are drawn together and the flush on his cheeks make him look more beautiful than ever, no wonder Luhan was in love with him.

The sight is enough for Luhan to pull back his cock and then slam in roughly, his eyes wide as he takes in the fucked out mess of MInseok swaying over Zitao’s body. Zitao shivers under the warm stripes of come over his lower stomach, his cock being milked so much by the fluttering muscles of Minseok’s ass.

The cockring is digging into his base, cutting off any means to come, and god the pressure makes Zitao _ache_ as he tilts his hips up like an offering to the way Luhan plows meanly into him, losing his self-control now that Minseok has lost his. Luhan fucks deep and good into Zitao, though his cock isn’t as thick as Yifan’s – it’s still enough for Zitao to begin hiccupping as he is fucked over and over again, trying so desperately to come.

Minseok has become a boneless heap against Luhan’s chest, his eyes half-lidded as he rolls to the rhythm of Luhan’s motions while Luhan uses Zitao up to chase his own orgasm. Zitao doesn’t mind – wants to feel Luhan’s adoration, Luhan’s desire, even in its misdirection. Above him, Yixing licks his mouth and watches hungrily as Zitao rolls his hips to draw Luhan as deep as he can.

That’s when Luhan loses it – when Minseok curves a hand around Luhan’s neck, his mouth asking him, ‘want to see you come in Taozi, Luhannie,’ and who is Luhan to refuse? Zitao wails again, back arched in helpless bow of pleasure when Luhan fills him so fucking full of it – full of warm come, the best feeling in the world, how it pumps and gets him hot and wet inside.

In a motion, Luhan is pulling out and hooking his arms around Minseok’s stomach, letting Minseok’s leaking ass pull off Zitao’s still hard cock. It’s purpling at the head and leaking so profusely that Zitao knows he’ll come the moment the cockring snaps off, and god – it fucking _aches_.

‘Yixing,’ he pleads with the last person here, the one with his hands curved so gently around Zitao’s palm and wrist, holding Zitao’s arm back.

‘Yes, Tao?’ says Yixing as he leans down to peck him lightly on the cheek, then the other. The gentleness of it has Zitao’s skin burning and he cranes his mouth upwards, dropped open in invitation, hoping Yixing will accept. Yixing pulls back and blinks. ‘How badly do you want it?’

It sounds like a genuinely curious question, not when Yifan teases him mercilessly on the sheets or Luhan’s sly remarks. Zitao swallows, wetting his mouth. ‘So much. Don’t wanna think, just wanna feel you.’

‘Oh,’ sighs out Yixing, as if finally understanding the other, and nods. ‘Okay.’ It’s the dancer’s grace, Zitao thinks, that makes Yixing straddle Zitao’s chest smoothly. His cock is leaking precome too, already ready for another round, and Zitao traces a bead of it all down the length with his fingertip before holding Yixing’s hips. He nudges Yixing forward until the head of the cock brushes against his mouth before opening his lips wide and taking in the crown.

Yixing groans from deep within his throat and Zitao loses himself in the service, makes sure that Yixing can tell how much he desires this. How much the weight of Yixing’s cock in his mouth makes his own hips twitch, how the stretch of his mouth and the taste of precome on his tongue has any other thought floating away from his mind when he just wants to fucking _suck_ and make Yixing happy, make Yixing come.

His hands are pulling at Yixing’s hips, trying to make Yixing move, make him fuck his mouth, but Yixing is still absurdly slow and gentle. He likes the wetness of Zitao’s mouth, the slick sounds and how Zitao uses one of his hands to spread his spit all the way down to the base and even over the sensitive skin of Yixing’s sack.

Still, a blowjob is a blowjob, and Zitao’s focus brings Yixing closer to the edge. Zitao flicks his tongue against the ridge of the glans and drinks down the precome with sloppy enthusiasm. Involuntarily, Yixing grinds his balls down against the skin of Zitao’s neck and his breath hitches before he’s alternating with slow wet glides between Zitao’s lips and dirty presses of his sack against the torso underneath.

Over and over, Zitao finds mindless comfort in the rhythm, as his body is strung tight from arousal and also exhaustion, stretching him thin but warming him all the same as he feels himself pleasure the others, help them come fast and hard and messy and mark him up in the warmth of their affection.

Yixing pants out a low warning, ‘Zitao – I’m going to – ’ and Zitao hums for it desperately from the back of his throat. He’s not getting face-fucked, but this is so close, so close to what he wants that it almost doesn’t even matter. There is only a single-minded focus on sucking hard on Yixing’s cockhead and awaiting the familiar, hot splash of semen in his mouth.

The end arrives quickly enough. Yixing thrusts himself downward and rubs his balls before he’s finally sliding deep – _deeper_ , oh god yes – into Zitao’s mouth and comes with a muffled groan and a jerk, striping the roof of Zitao’s mouth with his load and letting Zitao swallow it all down as he sucks it forcibly from the head of Yixing’s dick.

With a hiss, Yixing pulls himself from the warm heat of Tao’s mouth and rubs any stray drops away with his thumb from the corner of Zitao’s lips and chin. His gaze is so warm – so fucking _affectionate_ – and Zitao makes a soft, desperate noise in the back of his throat at how much it makes his stomach clench.

‘Zitao,’ calls Yifan from the side and immediately Zitao whips his gaze to his duizhang, watching and listening intently. ‘Do you want to come?’

‘So fucking much,’ begs Zitao, painfully honest, as the cockring digs deep against the base of his dick.

‘Minseok, Luhan, are you satisfied?’ It’s a front, a tease – objectively, Zitao knows this, but his gut clenches in anticipation at the answer. He tried – oh he tried so hard – but they can say no, they can ask him to do it again. And – fuck – Zitao would.

Said pair are settled at the upper corner of the bed, out of the way entirely. Luhan is curled into Minseok’s arms, nuzzling into his neck, and his gaze settles lazily over Zitao’s face, the dried come over his chest and stomach. ‘Oh yes, our Taozi has such a nice, tight ass.’

Minseok nudges Luhan’s cheek with his nose, a silent scold at the other’s filthiness, but meets Yifan’s gaze with a smile. ‘He was lovely.’

Yifan flicks his gaze to Yixing. ‘And you?’

‘Perfect,’ replies Yixing with sincerity, and gets off the bed entirely to stand between Zitao’s legs, waiting.

‘Congratulations, Zitao – you get to come,’ says Yifan, then pauses: ‘this time.’

Zitao swallows at the implication but he can’t think on it when Yixing’s fingers brush his sack. He feels them skitter upwards to the base and Zitao wants to fucking _cry_ when he feels the ring loosen then unclasp entirely away from his cock.

‘Oh god, oh god,’ he begs, mindless, and Yixing shoots him another smile, his dimples in plain view, and Zitao wants to cry with how beautiful these people are – the ones that love him so absolutely and wonderfully when they ruin him like this.

Without further pause, Yixing closes his mouth over half of Zitao’s cock and bobs his head once, twice, thrice – and Zitao can’t handle it. His nails almost rip through the sheets as he claws at them with the force of his orgasm, his voice caught in his throat, unable to even make a sound while he pumps Yixing’s mouth full of so much come it begins to leak from the corner of Yixing’s curved lips.

Exhausted, boneless, Zitao’s body relaxes in a series of aftershocks and collapses against the mattress while Yixing licks his softening cock clean and swallows down the entire load as best as he can, the sight of his bobbing adam’s apple getting Zitao’s mouth dry with how hot it is.

Yixing wipes up any stray drops from his own face and moves away, his hands sliding gently down the length of Tao’s thighs in comfort. Zitao watches as Yixing seats himself beside Minseok at the upper corner of the bed, well out of the way. It’s picturesque in a way – the way Luhan is tucked away and Minseok swinging an inviting arm around Yixing’s waist on the other side. With the three of them satisfied, Zitao hears his heart thud loudly in his chest as he turns his head to the other side of the room, and looking where Yifan is standing, Jongdae sitting and watching beside him.

‘Yifan,’ he breathes. To his credit, Yifan doesn’t pretend he’s unaffected. His cock is hard and drooling, arched upwards in a glorious curve that already has Zitao’s lips opening up for a taste. The long lines of Yifan’s naked body are so familiar to him, and his fingers twitch to trace the skin again and reacquaint himself. He wants to make Yifan feel as good as the others, wants to show Yifan how much Zitao _wants_ , how much he _loves_.

So caught up in his thoughts that Zitao is surprised to remember Jongdae is still here, and he watches as the other straightens up and drops to his feet on the carpet with a soft sound. His undershorts are tented, which is a good sign Zitao supposes, but Yifan doesn’t let Jongdae come close to Zitao for a reason. It just makes Zitao curious for more.

‘Well, duizhang?’ drawls Jongdae as he hooks his fingers in his waistband and sheds the last bit of clothing from his body. ‘I think it’s my turn now.’

‘Our turn,’ corrects Yifan sharply, eyes focused on Jongdae, who dismisses the look easily as he crosses the room to the side of the bed. He leans his elbows on the mattress and hovers his face close over Zitao’s, mouth parted around a breath.

Zitao makes the decision for him and tilts his chin upwards, brushing their mouths together, intending on acquainting himself with something completely new. Jongdae hums something sweet, meeting Zitao in a kiss for a brief second, before Zitao’s skull is suddenly colliding back against the sheets, a hand on his throat.

‘Taozi,’ says Jongdae gently, ‘did I say you could kiss me?’

His hand is not tight around Zitao’s throat, but it’s still a firm pressure. Zitao swallows. ‘No.’

‘Good.’ The hand retreats, skims down over Zitao’s collarbones to scrape a thumbnail around Zitao’s perked nipple. Zitao shivers, trying to quantify the unknown element of Jongdae. The soft voice and fluttering touch seem borderline threatening, nothing like the soft hands of Yixing from before. Oh. Zitao was with someone completely different now.

‘What,’ Zitao wets his mouth before he continues. ‘What do you want?’

Jongdae’s fingers stop. He blinks slowly, bringing his gaze back up to Zitao’s eyes and evaluates. ‘To start, I want you to crawl to the middle of this bed and lie down on your back. After all,’ and something softens in Jongdae’s expression, like he’s smiling at Zitao from across the kitchen table in the early morning, everything comfortable and in place, ‘we’re going to take care of you.’

Zitao relaxes, feels the fear clouding his senses retreat because it’s still _Jongdae_ even under the sternness and implied threats. He nods, and Jongdae’s entire expression transforms from warm to predatory as lust slinks back into his blown pupils.

‘Go, Zitao,’ says Yifan, standing at the foot of the bed, attention torn between the come-covered torso of Zitao and the casual tilt of Jongdae’s head. Zitao sucks in a breath and obeys, shuffling backwards so his legs aren’t hanging off the mattress. In the middle of the bed now, Zitao can flick his eyes up and see the other three out of the periphery of his vision before he’s watching Yifan get on the bed at his hip, his long fingers sliding upwards along Zitao’s thigh

Jongdae is at his shoulder on the other side, his small fingers carding through Zitao’s hair, unsticking it from his forehead, before he’s talking again, ‘do you want Yifan to fuck you first? Or me?’ There are fingers tickling his neck in warning.

Zitao feels uncertainty roll through his body because there is a wrong answer here and he wants – god, he just wants to make Yifan _and_ Jongdae happy and – ‘Both,’ he whimpers.

‘Good answer,’ grins Jongdae, looking back at Yifan over his shoulder. ‘Shall we?’

‘Can you handle it, Zitao?’ asks Yifan.

‘Yes, yes, I can,’ he says, and lifts his hips, tries to show how loose Luhan has fucked him with his cock, how easily he can take them in.

‘Then get the fuck on your knees,’ murmurs Jongdae with steel under his voice, his thumb brushing over Zitao’s bobbing adam’s apple. Zitao lets out a high keen of anticipation as he does just that, fingers reaching out to skim along Yifan’s shoulders. Yifan smiles at him – a break in his demeanour – and Zitao meets his mouth with a wet kiss, loving and desperate, even when exhaustion tugs at his body.

Yifan kisses so familiarly, sucking Zitao’s bottom lip until it’s swelling before tasting Yixing’s precome that still lingers on Zitao’s tongue. Zitao clutches at Yifan’s shoulders, his legs settling around Yifan’s hips, feeling the wet nudge of Yifan’s cock trace across the back of his ass.

‘Please, Yifan, let me,’ begs Zitao softly, trying to ride back on the dick but Yifan’s hands are holding his hips still. Suddenly, there are other hands carding through his hair again and Jongdae’s chin settles sharply in the crook of Zitao’s neck and shoulder.

‘Let him, duizhang,’ encourages, Jongdae, ‘imagine how good it’s gonna be – how tight Taozi’s hole all around both of our cocks, don’t you want it?’ He kisses the cartilage of Zitao’s ear, ‘with Yifan’s dick stretching you open, I’ll ease in as well, and I promise we’ll fuck you good. Hard and rough just how you like it.’ Zitao shudders violently, already imagining how his body will be spread thin if they both slide inside of him and he pants even more, his eyes searching Yifan in a silent beg.

‘You,’ says Yifan, but he’s not talking to Zitao. ‘You fucking listen to me.’

‘Of course,’ replies Jongdae, mocking laughter in the tones.

Yifan growls but doesn’t say anything more and instead manhandles Zitao backwards and to the side. Now it’s Yifan on his back in the middle of the bed, and he’s asking Zitao to straddle him, which Zitao does happily, dipping his head down to kiss Yifan’s mouth and feel the low rumbles of Yifan’s voice vibrate down his spine.

He gasps when he feels Jongdae behind him, his fingers wet with lube as they slide inside of his stretched hole. ‘C’mon, Tao, don’t you take our duizhang’s cock all the time?’ Zitao shudders and begins to push back against Jongdae’s fingers – a tad earlier than he’s used to, but the burn is making his brain short-circuit as Yifan’s hands fan out over Zitao’s chest and play with his nipples.

Head thrown back, Zitao can see the focus of Jongdae’s gaze as he finger-fucks Zitao’s ass, the small smirk when Zitao rolls his hips back to the thrusts, matching his rhythm. Because Zitao is good at this, because he’s going to make this good for the both of them.

‘Ah,’ exhales Yifan, body jerking in surprise, and Zitao looks again, sees that both Jongdae’s hands are lubed up and while one hand fucks Zitao’s ass, the other is slicking up Yifan’s cock. ‘Chen – ’

‘You’ll get it when you’re ready,’ says Jongdae easily, and Zitao feels how Yifan doesn’t protest, and it’s fascinating and oh – he thought only Joonmyeon could do this to Yifan, press him into a pliant mess on the sheets with a few words and gestures just as Yifan does to him –

‘Chen,’ begs Zitao, his cock filling up with blood as his arousal surges down his spine like an electrical charge. ‘I am – I am – ’

Jongdae meets his eyes, his fingers retreating from Zitao’s ass. ‘Then show me.’

Swallowing, Zitao reaches behind himself and cups the heavy weight of Yifan’s cock before rubbing the wet head against his hole. ‘Ah – ah – Yifan – ’ he moans, back arched as he sinks down on the hard cock, feeling himself filled up in all the right places, friction catching at the rim and making him harder.

From behind Zitao, Jongdae whistles low, his fingers a pressure along the top of Zitao’s crack, watching as Zitao lifts his hips and rides back down, fucking himself slow and steady over Yifan. Yifan’s eyes are blown open and his gaze is warm, worshipful over Zitao’s skin as Zitao moves.

‘You’re so good,’ he says in a rush, and Zitao moans for it, lets the compliment drip over his skin. ‘You want more?’

‘Yes,’ he hisses, twisting his hips to get friction on his rim. He feels the gentle pressure of Jongdae’s fingers move downwards and press at his rim, ingratiating one finger along the underside of Yifan’s dick.

‘Ride down on it, yeah,’ says Jongdae and Zitao _tries_ – makes sure each inch of Yifan is still going to be inside of him as he jerks his ass back and tries to envelop Jongdae’s finger as well. Yifan makes another garbled sound as Jongdae pours more lube over Zitao’s ass and along Yifan’s cock, and it makes everything messier. Still, Zitao _finally_ gets Jongdae’s finger alongside Yifan into his hole and the burn edges up his spine, makes his body _ache_ – caught between _no no no more_ and _please fuck want both of you want to know both of you_.

It’s a conflict that Yifan seems to sense and his hands are rubbing all up along Zitao’s chest before enclosing over his half-hard cock, jerking him gently. ‘You can take it, you can,’ he encourages, ‘but only if you want.’

Zitao pushes the doubts away, ignores the burn, and nods, ‘I want – fuck – I want – _Chen_ – ’

‘So hungry for it,’ hums Jongdae, and now there’s a second finger, another stretch, loosening Zitao up as he keeps riding Yifan’s dick slow and steady, uses up the lube entirely to make sure Zitao can handle it all. Zitao wants to say he can, but his brain is white noise because the stretch pushes at his nerves even further – spreads his body thin and leaves him falling apart at the seams.

‘He’s ready,’ calls out Jongdae, ‘so try not to come too soon, duizhang.’

‘Fuck you,’ spits Yifan, but Zitao doesn’t like that – so he leans over and kisses the frown from Yifan’s mouth, his hands smoothing out the other’s brow and trailing his tongue hot and wet over that lovely jawline, that long neck. Yifan throws his head back, let’s Zitao do as he wants over his skin, but it abruptly stops when Jongdae begins to push inside.

Zitao’s thighs lock, his entire body strung tight like piano wire as he focuses on the burn, on the way Jongdae is so fucking _hot_ inside of him, how he’s pushing at Yifan’s cock, how both of them are stretching him so fucking _wide_ and he’s so full of fucking cock right now.

‘Oh, oh,’ Zitao sobs, trying to breathe, ‘oh god.’

‘It feels so fucking good, Tao,’ says Jongdae, pressed all along Zitao’s back, his hot breath washing over Zitao’s cheek. ‘You’re so tight and I can feel duizhang’s cock against mine.’ He shifts, pushing in _deeper_ and Zitao is keening. ‘Do you like it? How we both feel in your ass?’

Zitao’s hands flail and catch against Yifan’s chest, leaving red lines over the skin as he tries to fucking _breathe_. ‘Oh fuck, Yifan, Yifan, Yi _fan_ ,’ and Yifan’s hands are there, cradling his wrists, sliding upwards to cup Zitao’s elbows before holding his hips and rubbing at the dip of his abdomen with fond gentleness.

‘We’re inside of you, yeah,’ he says, his voice a low, wrecked growl, ‘want us to move? And fuck you?’

‘ _Please_ ,’ says Zitao, broken, and doesn’t resist Jongdae’s arm when it wraps around his stomach to pull him back to lean against Jongdae’s chest as they begin to move. It’s slow, burning, and Yifan only retracts his cock an inch, same with Jongdae, before they push back in together.

Vaguely, it should be eerie that they’re so in synch, that they both know Zitao’s body so well, like it’s a well-read novel, all his wants and desires already bookmarked to refer back to. They move like a wave and Zitao is the buoy caught helplessly in the storm. His body loses any grace, any energy of its own, as he feels himself be fucked into deeper and deeper every time.

Jongdae promised him hard and rough, and Zitao would give him points for following through to the letter if he could think right now. Instead, Zitao twitches and jerks as they fuck into his body, stretch him farther than any other time. He blinks back the sweat and sees Yifan’s face twisted in pleasure, how he savours the friction of Zitao’s ass and Jongdae’s cock pressed right alongside him.

Right now, Zitao is stretched every which way – his emotions running high with the way Jongdae’s breath ghosts over his cheek every time his sharp hips snap up behind Zitao, and how Yifan’s hand jerks Zitao’s cock as he also screws right up deep. They’re ruining him completely, absolutely, pulling him apart in too many ways so that he’s sobbing for breath with each thrust.

‘Zitao,’ groans Yifan, who twists his hand on the cockhead and makes Zitao shudder. ‘Zitao.’ Except Zitao is sobbing and trying to keep himself together and he can only open his mouth in question for the request, cause he’ll do it – oh, anything, _anything_ – with these two cocks fucking him apart.

‘God, you’re so gone,’ laughs Jongdae breathlessly in his ear, ‘want to fuckin’ come, Taozi?’

A long keen builds in Zitao’s throat, tears spilling out of the corner of his eyes as he tries to reply, but Yifan is already there, ‘I got you, I got you – you can – c’mon, Zitao.’

The pace kicks up a notch, already pushing Zitao way past any coherent point in his mind, and he can only feel himself get split over and over on the cocks inside of him, his already exhausted body trying to match the pace and still fuck into Yifan’s fist as Yifan jerks him off.

Yifan knows what Zitao likes, but the pleasurable stimulation is making his entire body tremble and he doesn’t know what’s going to happen when he finally loses it. Only that his ass is trying to flutter and his muscles spasm as the pleasure ripples through him, and Jongdae is groaning filthy things all, ‘ass so tight and hot around us, you’re gonna make us lose it, fill you up with so much come, watch it leak out your pretty puffed hole’ and ZItao doesn’t even know what he’s doing anymore, only that he’s falling to pieces –

‘Zitao,’ growls Yifan from underneath, and Zitao is crying, losing his mind, as Yifan thumbs his head and flicks at his glans and he’s _coming_ – long stripes of come all over Yifan’s skin as he shakes and shakes and _shakes_.

‘Oh fuck – ’ groans Jongdae, ‘let me fill you up,’ and he’s coming now too, his hips stuttering out a hard rhythm that Zitao can feel zinging up his spine like electric shocks, the feeling of warm semen seeping all around the hard length of Yifan’s cock that’s still fucking into him. It’s filthy now – the sound of spunk leaking out as Yifan fucks rough and dirty, feeling Zitao’s body milk his cock automatically and – ‘Zitao – _oh_ ,’ and Yifan groans out his own orgasm into Zitao.

Zitao is sobbing as his body is used up, his brain white noise, and the moment Jongdae releases his arm around Zitao’s stomach, Zitao is collapsing forward onto Yifan. He can feel the warm come leave his too-stretched hole and how everything is hot and aching in the best way.

Yifan is saying something, but Zitao can’t hear him, so he just closes his eyes, and finally – with a long, shuddering heave – Zitao passes the fuck out.

-

When he comes to, it’s still dark in the room, and the sheets are warm under his body. Every muscle in his body is sore and exhausted and his ass is burning from being stretched so much for so long. He blinks back the haziness and tries to prop himself up on an elbow to look around, but every part of him is telling him to stay flat on the comfortable bed.

Slowly, other sounds slink into his awareness. The door to the bedroom is cracked open, a light peeking through. Some muffled voices and tinkling noises. Behind him are other voices and – oh, it’s the familiar muffled baritone of Yifan’s voice and the other… the other is Jongdae.

‘He’s up,’ says Jongdae, a tad louder, and moves into Zitao’s line of vision by kneeling beside his head and sliding his fingers over Zitao’s cheek and hair. ‘That good, huh?’

Zitao wets his mouth, finding his voice, surprised at how wrecked he sounds. ‘Yeah.’ It’s only one syllable, but it’s enough to make him cough dryly. Jongdae moves away, and Yifan is there to replace him. His gaze is concerned as he rubs his hands up and down Zitao’s arms, warming him up and trying to ease the ache. ‘Chenchen is getting water.’

Without waiting for a reply, Yifan is lifting him up and cradling him close in between his arms, tucking Zitao’s head in the crook of Yifan’s neck. Zitao can smell it still – the sweat and remnants of sex on Yifan’s skin. Taking a few deep breaths, Zitao lifts his fingers and slides them through the sweaty mess Yifan’s hair, tugging his face down for a featherlight kiss. Yifan hums and peppers Zitao’s face with more kisses, keeping them soft and fleeting. They warm Zitao, basking in the attention and affection and how good it feels to be so sore and exhausted between Yifan’s arms.

Jongdae returns through the door, body naked just like Yifan, with a glass of water. Yifan shifts, straightening his back to make sure Zitao is properly upright to drink. Jongdae cups Zitao’s cheek and nudges the rim of the glass against his mouth, letting the water wash over Zitao’s tongue and mouth, watching how he eagerly downs it all.

‘Want more?’ he asks when Zitao is done, but Zitao shakes his head, snuggling back into Yifan’s neck. His eyes are half-lidded as he finds the energy to trace fingers up his own torso, noting how he’s cleaned up from everyone’s come. It makes him feel warmer than ever.

‘Thank you,’ he says, voice still a wreck. Yifan kisses his temple, smoothing a hand down his spine, in reply.

Jongdae gets on the bed and kneels next to him, his small hand skipping up the long line of Zitao’s thigh, eyes sharp even in the gloom. ‘Let me ask again – do you want more?’

Yifan looks at him sharply. ‘ _Chen_ , he’s done.’

Zitao meets Jongdae’s glittering gaze, at the promise lingering still underneath. ‘I wasn’t good enough for you?’

A blink and a long stare, before Jongdae quirks his mouth. ‘What are you going to do if I said ‘no’ is the real question.’

Yifan sucks in a sharp breath, his arms tightening around Zitao’s waist, but Zitao is already leaning forward, closer, his hand unclasping from Yifan’s shoulder to reach out for Jongdae. Jongdae leans back, tangling his fingers in between Zitao’s own and tugging him away from Yifan.

This is Jongdae, and Jongdae would never hurt him. The litany repeats in Zitao’s head as he follows. His limbs are already trembling as he balances himself on all fours, Jongdae on his back underneath, and Zitao remembers the hand on his throat. ‘C-Can I kiss you, Chenchen?’

‘Of course,’ replies Jongdae, tipping his head forward and Zitao meets him, dropping to his elbows to lick his way into Jongdae’s mouth completely. Jongdae’s fingers are so small and different as they slide over Zitao’s torso, playing with his nipples by rubbing and tugging gently at them. It’s not the pain-edged stimulation Zitao prefers, but his body is already so fucked out that it’s enough to make his cock twitch in interest anyway.

Jongdae kisses languid and wet, mouth open and tongue rolling to meet Zitao’s, exchanging each other’s tastes almost lazily if it wasn’t for the fact that Jongdae’s hands are still on his chest, getting him hard with just nipple play.

Vaguely, Zitao wonders why Yifan hasn’t joined him, but this is pleasant – just these kisses and touches, the fact that Jongdae is being so gentle with him in contrast with earlier. When Zitao pulls away to catch his breath, Jongdae’s mouth is curved and swollen, his eyes still glittering with plans that Zitao is eager to discover despite his instincts.

‘So, Taozi,’ begins Jongdae, propping himself up and making Zitao lean back so he’s straddling Jongdae’s thighs now. ‘How’s your ass?’

‘Aching, stretched.’ Zitao swallows and hopes it’s the right answer. Jongdae seems uncaring of his short height when he wraps his arms around Zitao’s shoulders and pulls him back down for another slow kiss. When they part, Jongdae unclasps one of his arms to slide his fingers down Zitao’s spine, stopping just before his ass. Zitao shivers, anticipation ratcheting, but doesn’t say nor move.

‘May I, Tao?’ asks Jongdae, and the illusion of choice Zitao has in the matter only makes his cock twitch. Jongdae would take, no matter the answer.

‘Yes,’ he murmurs, and Jongdae smiles with pride in his expression before the pads of his fingers are tracing the flushed, puffy, well-fucked hole. Zitao arches and keens from just the tingling touches and involuntary pushes back.

‘You’re so eager to please, Zitao, it makes you so pretty,’ remarks Jongdae as he slides one finger inside of Zitao’s ass entirely. Zitao jerks and shudders, his hips bucking _somewhere_ but he can’t tell if it’s back onto Jongdae’s hand or away. ‘So fucking gorgeous,’ continues Jongdae, ‘I want you to slide your own finger inside of yourself, understand?’

‘Yes, yes,’ blabbers Zitao, feeling the pressure retreat. He lifts his hand and gasps as Jongdae tips his head forward to suckle at the fingers, soaking them in his spit.

‘Go ahead,’ encourages Jongdae in a breath when he pulls away, and Zitao nods, sucking in deep breaths before sliding the tip of his own finger inside. His hole is still loose, and the way is easy, but it’s so hot and every muscle in his body is aching, pulling him so tight. Eventually, he begins a slow rhythm of fucking himself, his eyes on Jongdae, watching the interplay of arousal and pride and satisfaction that all cross Jongdae’s face.

It’s a slow and steady pace, and his cock is now hard in interest, but Jongdae doesn’t say anything, so Zitao keeps going. He wonders where Yifan is, and tries to cant his hips back, make this more of a show for Yifan who hasn’t joined them yet. Jongdae seems to catch his intentions and only laughs breathily, before he’s talking again, ‘another one, Zitao.’ Zitao’s breath catches, but Jongdae shakes his head. ‘Don’t worry; it won’t be both of us again. That was a fun game, but it’s time to play another, don’t you think?’

It’s a question so there must be an answer. Zitao nods, ‘y-yes, oh, fuck,’ and Jongdae is smiling so brightly at him, with so much _pride_ , that Zitao adds the second finger without thinking, his gut tight with warmth. The stretch and burn multiplies, but Zitao won’t stop. Not when Yifan can see his body on display like this, and Jongdae is looking at him so sweetly.

‘You’re so good for it,’ exhales Jongdae. ‘You want someone to break you down, to drive you to the edge. Want it so fucking bad.’ He sounds like he’s building up to something, so Zitao nods, agrees because yes, that’s what makes Yifan so perfect, how he can drive Zitao to an edge with a mixture of pain and pleasure and emotional vulnerability. Jongdae continues, ‘I watched you, gorgeous Taozi, when you were with Xingxing-ge, and Minseok-hyung, and Luhan.’

‘Di-Did you like it?’ pants out Zitao, but he’s not fishing for compliments, just teasing the aroused look on Jongdae’s face. Jongdae narrows his eyes.

‘Another finger, Zitao. Do it.’ It’s a direct order, and Zitao licks his mouth before sliding in the third into his ass. It’s – it’s driving him forward, up the wall, and his breath is suddenly short and stuttering in his lungs. Heart thundering in his chest, he breaks – ‘Yifan.’

Only a second later and Zitao can feel the comforting warmth of Yifan at his back, his hands wrapping around Zitao’s torso to smoothe over Zitao’s stomach and chest. ‘I’m here,’ he whispers into Zitao’s ear, ‘you remember your safeword, you don’t have to.’

Zitao nods but his fingers don’t stop, doesn’t stop stretching himself back out again, despite how every muscle in his body is trembling from exertion already. He doesn’t want to disappoint Jongdae, doesn’t want to lose those compliments and looks and the way Jongdae looks at him like he’s perfect. Zitao’s going to finish this for all of them.

‘I want you close,’ he says instead, ‘please, Yifan, please.’ Yifan replies by kissing his neck, licking a wet, warm stripe upwards and nibbling at his earlobe. They gestures are all soft and warm and the tension slowly drains out from his shoulders, his fingers sliding deep inside of him and back out again, sending strings of arousal all throughout his fatigued body.

‘You liked how Luhan fucked you all steady,’ starts Jongdae, his voice cloying and gentle, ‘you liked how lovingly Minseok-hyung rode you, how sweetly Xingxing-ge kissed you.’ Zitao shudders from the memories from earlier, his fingers crooking, sliding over his prostate as Yifan mouths wetly at his shoulder. ‘But that’s what you want, not what you _need_.’

‘No,’ agrees Zitao in a choked out gasp, his chin dropping to his chest, accepting the burn of his stretched ass and riding it out on his fingers. ‘No, no, no.’

Jongdae kisses the other side of his neck from where Yifan is, one of his hands cupping Zitao’s hip, the other one wrapping gently around Zitao’s neck. ‘I’m going to show you something, Zitao. I’m going to break you.’ He squeezes his fingers around Zitao’s throat just once and Zitao’s eyes fly open to stare at Jongdae, realization settling in his bones.

‘Chen,’ he says, and Yifan stops his gentle ministrations to watch Jongdae with equal parts arousal and wariness.

‘Feel your fingers, Tao,’ continues Jongdae, ‘and tap my leg twice if you don’t want it – but you will. Oh, you will. Especially around duizhang’s cock.’ Zitao can hear nothing but the rush of blood in his head and then Jongdae begins to tighten his grip, pressing against his windpipe.

Zitao can’t fucking _breathe_ , but the warmth of Yifan is up against his back and his own fingers are up his ass. As the oxygen leaves his lungs he can feel his entire body go tight and – _oh_ , there it is, that suffocating fluttering of his ass as he squeezes down ruthlessly in some desperate plead for air.

The pressure leaves his neck suddenly and Zitao sucks in a desperate breath, then another, and he’s staring wide-eyed at Jongdae, ‘Chenchen,’ he begs.

Jongdae’s eyes meet Yifan’s over Zitao’s shoulder and they seem to exchange some unknown dominance code that allows Zitao to be manhandled so his hand is out of his ass and Yifan’s cock is nudging into him instead.

Zitao’s arms are holding out around Jongdae’s neck now as he’s pushed forward with Yifan’s hand between ZItao’s shoulder blades. With a soft exhale, Yifan sinks into the heat and Zitao loves this – this familiar curve and arch of cock, the way Yifan knows his body and how his ass just takes Yifan’s cock within.

With Yifan fucking him, Zitao has a hard time focusing on anything else, even with his face almost mashed into Jongdae’s neck, because who is Jongdae to how Yifan is going to fuck him and take care of him. Zitao moans out loud, all his reservations gone when his body has been pushed to the edge and he cants his hips back, meeting each thrust.

Yifan drapes himself over Zitao’s back, his hips fucking into him in deep, short jabs right against Zitao’s prostate. It makes Zitao arch and lose himself, trying so hard to reciprocate when he feels pinned with attention and sex like this. He pants, ‘Yifan, oh god, Yifan,’ and Yifan responds in kind, ‘you’re perfect like this.’

The compliment sears into him and makes his head jerk up, eyes burning. He meets Jongdae’s intent gaze and swallows, nodding. He wants it; wants to become a mindless toy for Yifan to fuck, his ass a suffocating heat as he loses himself completely to the sensations happening around him.

Jongdae’s hands might be small, but they’re forceful as they squeeze around Zitao’s neck, cutting off his windpipe. The oxygen stops and Zitao gapes, his body shaking even more. All his muscles are tightening up, biological mechanisms screaming for air, and Yifan lets out the loudest sound yet – ‘fuck, Tao, _fuck_!’ before he’s following through and reaming into Zitao’s ass, savouring the friction for all he can, using up Zitao’s body for his own orgasm.

He doesn’t know how long it goes on, only that Jongdae is watching him intently and Yifan is losing his mind behind him, screwing him literally to an inch to his life and this is it – this is what Zitao wants. Zitao’s body is a fucktoy just for Yifan, and he’s never wanted anything more than to simply give up and give in for Yifan because Yifan takes care of him so well and he needs to respond, needs to give it all up.

Almost as quick as Jongdae begins, he lets go of Zitao’s throat and Zitao is gasping, collapsing against Jongdae’s chest, his brain white noise as his body tries frantically to revive itself, each flutter and shock jerking through his body only fueling Yifan on.

‘Perfect,’ murmurs Jongdae into his ear before his hand is wrapping around Zitao’s cock, and the pleasure makes his ass clench and flutter. Yifan grunts, grips Zitao’s hips till they’re bruised, before grinding hard and deep into him, and it’s enough to push Zitao over the edge to his own orgasm before either of them.

He soaks Jongdae’s hand in come, shivering and boneless again, every part of him so goddamn sore and aching, except he can’t – he needs to keep going for Yifan, to satisfy duizhang. ‘No, no,’ he murmurs, voice slurred, trying to push himself back up.

Jongdae catches his elbows, pulls him upwards to lean back against Yifan’s warm chest even while Yifan’s hips are rocking gently inside of his ass still. ‘Do you want us to come too, Zitao?’

‘Please,’ he says. ‘ _Please_ , Yifan.’ Yifan kisses Zitao’s tear-streaked cheek – when did he start crying again, he can’t remember, only this endless cycle of building up and coming down, stretching himself too far and trying to remember how to think again.

Yifan and Jongdae are moving his body again, gently nudging Zitao on his knees and elbows, his head hung low as he waits for the other two to find their places. He’s surprised to see Yifan’s legs kneel in front of his face and the soft touch of his fingers on Zitao’s chin, asking him to look upwards.

‘Can I have your mouth?’ Yifan’s expression is so gentle, his mouth parted around a breath of admiration at the sight of Zitao in all his debauched glory. Zitao preens under the look and nods, pushing himself up to grab at Yifan’s hips for balance before nuzzling at the still-hard cock standing in front. ‘Don’t push yourself,’ Yifan warns, again in that same loving voice that rolls down Zitao’s spine, only making Zitao feel even more confident and beautiful when he’s with his duizhang.

Behind him, Jongdae’s sliding his cockhead along the crease of Zitao’s ass, and Zitao tilts his hips upwards in acceptance. He wants them both to come. He wants both of them to use him up until he’s gone and they’re satisfied.

Jongdae sinks inside of Zitao in one smooth push, the lube and come making way, while Zitao worships Yifan’s cock, licking at the leaking crown before suckling down the head. Jongdae keeps his pace slow for now, which gives Zitao time to soak Yifan’s dick in spit and precome, get him wet and sloppy so Yifan will be able to fuck Zitao’s mouth easier.

He licks the underside of the cock, from root to tip, mouthing wetly at the glans and drinking down the precome. With another long, languid suck, Zitao dives back down under the dick and plays with Yifan’s sack, rolls each ball on his tongue and adds a little teeth just to keep Yifan on edge.

‘Zitao,’ warns Jongdae, his hips snapping a little harder, and Zitao knows he’s going to pick up the pace. Pulling from Yifan’s balls, Zitao leaves wet kisses all the way back up to the tip and swallows him halfway down without warning. Yifan moans, his fingers tangling in the sweaty mess of Zitao’s hair, holding on as Zitao bobs up and down, working his cock over with enthusiasm and practice.

Behind him, Jongdae fucks into him quick and rough, a twist on the downstroke to catch Zitao’s rim and make his flaccid cock valiantly try to rise. It’s good and hard, exactly what he needs when the momentum drives him forward onto Yifan’s dick, letting the cockhead bump against the back of his throat.

‘Tao, oh – oh – ’ murmurs Yifan, his grip tightening in Zitao’s hair as he understands what Zitao wants. He always does. Zitao hums for it, inhaling deeply and loosening his jaw as far as he can. Each reaming thrust from Jongdae pushes him forward, pushes him farther, and if only Yifan could just reciprocate – oh please – please –

‘Fuck him,’ growls Jongdae with a particularly hard grind, pushing Zitao’s body forward, and Yifan snaps back, ‘fuck off,’ before Zitao gets what he wants. Yifan pulls back and shoves his cock into the hot heat of Zitao’s mouth and Zitao hollows out his cheeks to suck, drive Yifan closer and closer. They’re both already on the edge from seeing Zitao come apart between them, and now they were using him up to get to the very end and it’s _glorious_.

Yifan’s grip doesn’t pull at Zitao’s hair, only keeps his head still as his hips fuck his throat mercilessly. Zitao loses himself to the rhythm, to the way his ass is sore and opened up around Jongdae’s dick, to the pace of Yifan’s cock driving right deep past Zitao’s throat and making him choke on it.

He can’t breathe again, in a complete daze while he’s fucked from both ends. Valiantly, he keeps his mouth open, drools all over himself, savours the slap of Yifan’s balls against his chin as Yifan slams over and over into the suctioning, wet heat.

It feels so good to be taken like this even if he can’t think, can’t even hear if Jongdae’s mouth is running a commentary on how good Zitao must look between the both of them, how he should be like this all the time, and oh god, Zitao can’t help but agree. With Yifan’s perfect cock and perfect fingers using up his mouth and Jongdae knowing how to push and push and push him past limits he didn’t realize he had until Yifan comforts him.

The end comes inevitably too soon for Zitao, whose body is strung tight and only held up with his sheer will to please the both of them. Jongdae finishes first in a gloriously dirty grind up against Zitao’s hole, pumping him so full of come again. His hips are pushing at ZItao’s body, tipping him forward, and Zitao chokes even more with each thrust of Yifan’s cock into his mouth.

Yifan comes second and it is wonderful – the feeling of semen leaking out his ass combined with the feeling of his mouth full of spunk it’s going to leak out of his lips. He swallows as much as he can, trying not to sputter, before licking at Yifan’s cockhead for each last drop. Finally, Yifan hisses and pulls Zitao’s head away, tilting it up so Yifan can lean down to kiss him and lick the taste of his own come out of Zitao’s mouth.

Jongdae slides a hand up from Zitao’s ass to the back of his neck, tickling the nape, and Zitao feels his knees slip out from under him. His grip on Yifan’s hips also loosens and he would’ve almost collapsed entirely if it wasn’t for Yifan catching him around the elbows and lowering him gently against the sheets, covering his body with his own and catching his mouth in another soft, thankful kiss.

Vaguely, Zitao registers that Jongdae is wiping at his ass and legs with a damp cloth, but it’s over soon enough and there are footsteps and a door clicking closed. Yifan lifts himself up from Zitao, his mouth still littering Zitao’s cheeks and temple with kisses when he reaches for a washcloth that Jongdae presumably left behind.

‘You’re amazing,’ he hears Yifan say as Yifan wipes at the dried come over Zitao’s stomach and at his flaccid cock. ‘So perfect, look how well you did, how wonderful you are.’

Zitao preens and hums, ‘it was so good, Yifan.’ He stretches his arms above his head, feels the pull and ache that’s now settled in the spaces between his bones. ‘But…’ he hesitates, mind still coming back to reality as he feels Yifan pamper him.

Yifan’s hands don’t pause as he turns Zitao to his side and rubs at his back and his ass. ‘But?’

The fact is Yifan will protect him from anything, will take care of him and make sure he’s pleased and good, and Zitao knows this. Still. ‘But Chenchen is…’

‘Too much,’ finishes Yifan for him, his voice soft and understanding. ‘You still did so well, you know. You’re amazing, Tao.’

Zitao blinks, his eyes burning. ‘Thank you, so much.’

Yifan puts away the washcloth and turns Zitao back on his back, his mouth kissing Zitao so soft it feels dreamlike and sends tingles down to Zitao’s toes. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘I love you,’ blurts out Zitao, and hides his face in Yifan’s neck, curling his arms tight around Yifan’s shoulders. ‘So much, and this was more than I could’ve thought, and you gave it to me, you – ’ His voice breaks with emotion.

‘Zitao,’ and Yifan’s voice is breathy and fond, ‘I love you too.’ He shifts, holding Zitao’s waist in his hands, ‘but you’re exhausted and you need to sleep. We’ll shower in the morning, okay?’

‘Yes, okay,’ agrees Zitao readily, and is more than happy to be picked up. Yifan carries him out of the bedroom and they pass the kitchen, where the other four members are sitting at the table, munching on reheated kebabs from lunch though it’s close to three in the morning.

‘Goodnight,’ says Yixing with a smile, and Yifan nods to him. Zitao is curled sleepily against Yifan’s chest but he flutters his fingers in a half-hearted wave anyway as he is carried away to Yifan’s and Jongdae’s shared room to sleep.

-

Zitao wakes up as usual – to the sound of rushing water and Jongdae singing in the shower. Minseok is making coffee in the kitchen if the smell is anything to come by. Everything is warm and cozy pressed against a still-dozing Yifan, their legs tangled together and Zitao’s mouth tucked into Yifan’s neck. It’s so familiar and comforting that Zitao hums and falls back asleep for the time being.

Eventually, Yifan coaxes him back to awareness, out of the bed, and into the kitchen where the rest of them are already eating. On the table are eggs, rice and toast – the simple breakfast they’re all used to. Zitao’s entire body is screaming in protest to be moving right now, every muscle burning like they’re on fire, but the ache is worth it when the other five members look up at him with fondness in their eyes.

‘Good morning,’ says Minseok as Zitao sits down beside Yifan, ‘did you have a good rest?’

‘Yes,’ he says, glancing over at Yifan, who smiles at him.

‘Good, cause you fucking ruined Minseok’s bed,’ complains Luhan grumpily, ‘next one who has a birthday – go rent a fucking hotel, I swear.’

Jongdae snorts before feeding Zitao a piece of egg across the table all the while Yixing calmly tries to comfort Luhan, ‘but wasn’t it fun?’

‘It was,’ answers Minseok for him, grinning, and Luhan wilts under the warmth before nodding.

‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ asks Yixing, turning towards Zitao with an affectionate gaze.

There are no words to what Zitao felt last night – full of warmth, the centre of attention, all of his thoughts whited out and replaced with love, love, love. He settles with a nod and hopes the expression on his face explains the rest.

‘Good,’ and Yixing seems satisfied, ‘cause we’re going to take care of you, Taozi.’

‘I know,’ replies Zitao, and shifts in his seat before saying, ‘I love all of you.’

He expects the snorts of laughter, the mocking, because only Zitao wears his heart on his sleeve, but he also expects the fondness and affection that comes after when they say his name and touch him softly, closely, and it’s more than worth it.

-

**Author's Note:**

> aw yeah, my first time writing a moresome. thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


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